


Dare You to Move

by Homicidal Whispers (HomicidalWhispers)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Humanstuck, Identity Issues, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomicidalWhispers/pseuds/Homicidal%20Whispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is John Egbert and you are certain that you are 100% completely heterosexual. </p>
<p>Except that maybe you’re not so sure anymore. You think that this is probably at least a little bit gay and you’re not too sure how to feel about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare You to Move

**Author's Note:**

> Humanstuck guys. This is pretty much PWP but fuck that shit anything to get me out of this writing slump.

Your name is John Egbert and you are certain that you are 100% completely heterosexual.

Except that maybe you’re not so sure anymore. You think that this is probably at least a little bit gay and you’re not sure how to feel about that so you just kind of go with it. Karkat arches up under you, hands clinging almost desperately to your back and scrabbling into your hair. He tugs at it and you grunt, so he let’s go with a little murmur of what is probably apology.

He’s being surprisingly non-volatile. You think he knows how hard you’re flipping your shit internally and is trying to make it easier on you. Karkat pulls you down and you follow, catching his lips in another kiss. He moans softly and it’s too easy for you to stroke his tongue with your own. It’s warm and wet and _nice_ so you do it again and again.

It’s too easy.

Karkat, you realize, is completely restless, as if he’s making up for the lack of his usually constant stream of insults and curses with movement. You feel Karkat’s hands settle on your hips, between your pants and where your shirt has shifted up. He kisses you again to distract you while his hands slip upwards against your skin, testing boundaries. It doesn’t really work, but you let him anyway.

You sit up and you can see disappointment flash in his eyes and he starts to sit up too, but you smile reassuringly at him and push him back down. You pull your Ghostbusters shirt over your head and let it drop somewhere next to you on the bed. The look Karkat gives you is part surprise and part heady lust. You grin nervously in response.

You’re definitely not a homosexual, so it’s okay to do this.

When you lie back down, careful not to smother him with your weight, his fingers trail up your torso, skimming lightly. “John,” he whispers against you and suddenly this is all so real. You bury your face in his collarbone, pressing a tentative kiss there, wishing your brain would shut up. Karkat tilts his head back, inviting you to do it again. You do, this time sucking slightly and with more fervor that before.

He doesn’t seem to quite know what to do with himself, torn between his want to reciprocate and his fear of scaring you off. You know he has the right to be nervous and feel guilty about it. “It’s alright,” you mutter into his neck. “Go ahead.” Even with this, he is cautious, but his movements gain more of a purpose. He pulls you back up, and you’re kissing again. He’s more active; he pushes back against you enthusiastically. Your tongues twine together and part and then explore. His hands are pressing down more firmly. His fingers dip into your bellybutton and across your ribcage, making you giggle and then brushing across your nipple and making your breath hitch.

You’re pulling off his shirt now and Karkat lets you without complaint. When your bare skin touches, he gasps. You smile against his skin and he hits you.

It’s you who’s floundering now. The two of you have never made it much further than this before you back out, but this time you’re determined. He rubs your arms gently, telling you without words that it’s okay if you want to stop. Your kiss takes him off guard and he makes a sound like a whimper and arches up. His hips buck up into yours and you know just how serious this is getting.

You take a deep breath. You’re doing this. You’re making this happen. Your hands grip his sides as you move back to his neck and slowly work your way down to his shoulders and then his chest. You leave a wet trail behind you. His skin is flushed and you hear him struggling not to moan. He gives up when you reach his nipple and tug experimentally with your teeth.

Karkat stays very still beneath you, so you roll over and now he’s on top of you. You’re really close to panicking, but when his eyes meet yours, you nod and smile. He’s suddenly everywhere; now pressing a kiss into your temple, now curling his tongue around your ear, now biting down into the fleshy patch where your shoulder begins. His hands move almost spastically, moving from your stomach to your hair and back again. He’s almost worshipful in the way he touches you. When he kisses you, it’s almost desperate. It breaks your heart to think of how much he’s been holding back for you.

The pressure in your pants is quickly becoming unbearable and you suspect Karkat feels the same. You know he’d never do it first, so you reach blindly for the buckle of his pants. It takes a minute of fumbling, but you get the button undone and the zipper down and he kicks them down. Another deep breath and then you find his hand and guide them to your own.

When you’re both naked, you’re looking everywhere but down. You find cracks you never noticed before in the ceiling above your bed and suddenly notice that Karkat’s hair is the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever come across.

“Look, we don’t have to do this,” he tells you. “I can just…” He makes as if to get off of you, but you grab his hand.

“No!” you say. He looks taken aback by the strength of the word. “No,” you repeat. “Just give me a minute, okay?” Karkat nods and then settles back in between your legs. You take another deep breath, count to ten and then force yourself to look at him.

Karkat is beautiful. His body is almost feminine in shape, from his narrow waist and the gentle swell of his hips to the curve of his ass and shapely legs. You won’t tell him this because he’s self-conscious enough about himself. Saying that would only make him think that you’re with him because he’s close enough to a girl. It’s a ridiculous thought, but you can already see the thought forming in his mind. Instead, you screw your eyes shut and spread your legs in a clear invitation.

When he strokes your cock, it’s awkward and clumsy. His grip is a bit too firm for your liking and he’s clearly struggling to get the hang of doing this to another person. You think it’s the most fantastic thing you’ve ever felt. You bully yourself into reciprocating. You’re certain it sucks, but the look on his face and the soft sounds that keep coming from his mouth says otherwise.

He drops a kiss onto your lips, the rhythm he had barely managed to make faltering. “Breathe,” he tells you because you were nearly hyperventilating. You get your breathing under control and smile at him. He kisses you, properly this time. His hand stills almost completely in his distraction, but it’s okay, because yours does too. Karkat presses down and this time, you’re the one who moan when your dicks slide together. The sound is swallowed by his mouth.

You try to buck up when he rolls down, but your timing is still off. It feels amazing anyway and finally your head is feeling cloudy and your thoughts are coming a bit slower. You’d be embarrassed by the noise you were making, but Karkat’s louder and no one but the two of you are there to hear it anyway.

When he stills, you whine at the loss. He waits for you to look at him. His eyes are a murky brown tinged with flecks of red that are almost impossible to see unless you are this close to him.

“Do you want to, y’know, go further?” he asks you. He gestures vaguely, but you understand what he means. You think your heart is about to stop but you take another calming breath and focus on the feeling of him rubbing circles into your hip. You can do this.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. How…?” Before you can ask, he slips off of you and goes rummaging. You bought lube a month or so ago when it became clear that your relationship with Karkat was serious and that he’d eventually want this. You had stashed it away though and never looked at it again, beyond embarrassed and confused about what you wanted. He retrieves the bottle and you wonder how he knew where to find it, but don’t ask. His skin flushes darker as he walks awkwardly back to you.

When he comes back, he puts it gently down. It sits between you and for a minute you both look at everything besides for each other and the small bottle. He exhales. “Do you know what to do?” You nod stupidly before finding your voice and whispering an affirmative.

He lays down on his stomach, head buried in his arm. He tells you that it’s easier that way for the first time, but you catch sight of his red ears and think maybe he just wanted to hide. You don’t blame him. The pop of the cap opening is loud in the room. You see him tense. With one hand, you rub his shoulders and back soothingly while the other travels down towards his ass, leaving a cool trail down his lower back. He shivers at the first touch against his entrance and you wished you had thought to wait for it to warm up some.

It’s awkward and probably uncomfortable for him at first, but he doesn’t complain. You try to keep calm even as you watch him shudder and groan into your sheets. You add a second finger and he scoots forward, rising to his knees while keeping his face pressed into the bed. You’re feeling dizzy and overwhelmed and you’re thinking maybe you’re moving too fast when he bears back on your fingers, trying to get them deeper into him. The sheets can no longer muffle how loud he’s being.

You push in a third finger. He’s fucking himself on them, trying to guide them where he wants them, but you don’t know where that is. Still, you’re convinced that this is at least feeling good for him and that soothes your nerves just a bit.

“That’s enough,” he spits out. “Just go.”

“Um,” you stutter eloquently. You slather the lube on yourself, bite your lip and then add some more just in case. You’re a hopeless romantic, and you don’t like the idea of your first time with Karkat – with anyone – with you unable to see his face. You nudge him onto his back. He goes willingly enough and stays pliant while you put a pillow under him to help the position. His arms are thrown over his face.

The first couple of attempts, you miss and you laugh nervously. When you do make it, you feel Karkat forcing himself to relax for you. You move slowly, watching his face for signs of pain. They come, of course, but you still each time and wait for him to nod his assent for you to continue. When you’re finally all the way inside of him, you’re struck with the surreal quality of it all. It’s hotter and tighter than you could’ve imagined and this alone is a sensory overload. More than that, though, is the realization that _this is Karkat_ and he trusted you enough to do this with you.

You’re not entirely calm yet, no, but this thought does wonders for you. Gently, you pry his hands away from his face. You’re only an inch or two taller than he is, but it’s enough. You kiss him slowly and deeply, relishing his taste and the feel of him on your tongue. You nuzzle into his shoulder and suck hard enough that you think it’ll leave a bruise. He shudders.

“You can go ahead.” The words are little more than a whisper. He’s being so compliant and you think again of how he’s restraining himself for your sake, how much he’s giving up for you.

You thrust shallowly inside him and he gasps, but at least he doesn’t seem to be in too much pain. You do it again and then pull back and push back in.

“I’m not gonna fucking break, Egbert,” he says. He doesn’t look you in the eye when he says it, but you can read between the lines. He doesn’t mind some pain, he wants this, he wants _you_. One of his legs wraps around your waist and the other rests on your shoulder. You didn’t know he was flexible enough to do that.

You do as he says and thrust harder, deeper and he moans loudly. He slaps his hand over his mouth, but you take it away and thrust again. You can tell that neither of you are going to last very long, so you move to stroke him. He’s louder than you are, unintentionally reassuring you.

You know your pace is off and you’re probably somewhat jerky, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. He moans and babbles commands and pushes forward to meet you. It’s good, it feels so good and all you can think it Karkat, Karkat, _Karkat_.

There’s this pressure building in your stomach and a coil’s tightening and too soon you come inside him. Lethargy starts to set in, but you keep stroking him until he comes a minute after you and you pull out. It hadn’t even lasted fifteen minutes.

He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. You’re panicking silently, wondering if it was good for him at all, wondering if maybe you should have used a condom, wondering if he regrets it, wondering if _you_ regret it. Wondering if this makes you a homosexual, and oh god, it probably does, doesn’t it?

Karkat rolls over then. “I can hear you thinking, numbnuts. Stop worrying so much.”

You exhale in a whoosh of sound. “Right.” You go for some tissues and clean the two of you up. You think of pulling on some clothes, but he’s still naked and watching you expectantly, so instead you lay down under the covers. He follows and fits himself into your arms. You’re pressed chest to chest, with his hand pressed against your heart and your arm wrapped over his back. You still feel skittish, even though that’s silly. You’ve cuddled with him before, even if you weren’t naked then, and duh, you two just had sex.

“Will your dad see us?” he asks sleepily.

“Nah, it’s fine. He’s on a business trip, he won’t be back until tomorrow,” you answer. You bury your head in his hair and you feel him smile against your skin.

Your name is John Egbert. You’re really not all that certain about your sexuality and you wish that it wouldn’t matter so much to you, but it does. You’re afraid for what tomorrow will bring.

But for now, you’re lying in bed with your boyfriend, ready to fall asleep and you’re pretty fucking happy.


End file.
